


Change It.

by LazuliAlekto



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazuliAlekto/pseuds/LazuliAlekto
Summary: Dropping his daggers to clatter in the dust beside his feet, Ignis turned his face to where the Citadel loomed behind him, once a home, now oppressive.  Leaving the weapons where they fell he took one step after another before the tip of his toe hit the first step.  Head bowed, he lifted his foot and wearily trudged up to the once grand doors.





	Change It.

 

  The silence was deafening.

  Ignis sought some sound to ground him, to keep him from the knowledge that tore his soul and heart to pieces.  Twisting his head from one side to the other he finally picked up the harsh breathing of Gladio far to the right and Prompto somewhere on the left behind him.

  Instead of eternal darkness, pitch black, Ignis found his world painted in shades of grey.  The agony of knowledge weighed upon him, dragging him under.  It wouldn’t let him rest, wouldn’t let him catch his breath.

  So be it.

  Dropping his daggers to clatter in the dust beside his feet, Ignis turned his face to where the Citadel loomed behind him, once a home, now oppressive.  Leaving the weapons where they fell he took one step after another before the tip of his toe hit the first step.  Head bowed, he lifted his foot and wearily trudged up to the once grand doors.

  He didn’t hear either Gladio’s heavy tread or Prompto’s lighter steps following and he considered it the only blessing he’d been allowed in such a very long time.  Pushing the doors open, he entered alone.

  Resolute, he walked slowly, the only sound his own footsteps and his laboured breath, echoing in the emptiness as he made his way to the elevator they had _all_ entered earlier.  Tears pricked at his eyes, but would not fall.  The hollowness in the place his heart and soul had been was far too empty for tears to fill.

  Reaching down, his fingers shaking, he pressed the button that would take him higher up into the Citadel, to the…to the room that…

  He drew in a ragged breath as the doors closed quietly and the elevator rose through the bowels of the Citadel.  He pressed a hand to the wall, head bowed as he sucked in breath after breath, legs quivering and threatening to collapse beneath him.  The elevator stopped, the doors slid open and yet Ignis stood rooted to the spot.

  He knew what awaited him.  He _knew_ it.

  Bile rose in his throat, he clapped his hand over his mouth, a low whine escaping he stumbled out into the hallway.  Swallowing convulsively, he took one step and turned, following a path he’d taken so many times, the last only scant hours before.  He tore his visor off, useless now.  It broke under foot as he staggered down the hallway.

  _I’ve made my peace.  Still…_

_Knowing this is it, and seeing you here now…it’s…more than I can take._

A harsh sob tore from Ignis, his steps faltering.

  Another ragged breath.

  _Walk Tall, my friends._

  Hand to the wall, he trailed his fingers along it as he took one step after another, memories echoing in his mind.

  Laying on his back, one hand raised to the inky skies, pointing out constellations.  Excited blue eyes meeting his own, a thousand questions bubbling out of him.  Racing through these very hallways, hands clasped as they escaped Crownsguards tasked with keeping them safe.  Sneaking out to see the stars.  Sneaking in to the Citadel kitchens to see what treats the chefs had hidden away.  A finger coated in icing lifting to plump lips.  Blue eyes wide as Ignis stood before Regis, swearing his oath to the Crown, inducted to the very Crownsguard they’d escaped from so many times.  A small box held in nervous hands, extended to him.  Black pearl skull on a silver chain given with a shy smile.  An excited gasp the first time Ignis managed to use elemancy and produce a tiny flame in the palm of his hand.

  A wide grin as Ignis held out a pastry, then a slight shake of his head to say it wasn’t quite right.  Sneaking pureed vegetables into meals so there was at least some nutrition taken in.  Training together, spinning, blades clashing.  Staring up into those stormy blue eyes as he was pinned to the floor, twin flushes on their faces.

  Awkward confessions, fingers lacing together, lips meeting for the first time.

  _I love you_.

  Ignis reached the antechamber as those cherished words repeated through his mind.  He paused by the doors to…the _room_.  Prompto had handed over two photos for the King to take with him, one, he knew was of all of them, four men laughing and smiling in happier times.  The other…Prompto had told him quietly that it was one he’d taken of Ignis, a simple photo, one he himself had hardly paid attention to.  He’d almost broken when he’d been told.

  The only thing that had kept him going was the intense need to be strong for his King, to stand by him, give him whatever measure of love and strength he could.

  A deep inhale and Ignis placed a palm flat against the door, shuddering as he attempted to maintain some semblance of composure.  The doors creaked as they gave way and he halted again. 

  It was too quiet.

  The first tear spilled down over his cheek, quickly followed by another to track through the mud and blood and sweat that stained his skin.  Scrubbing his hand across his face, his feet took him into the centre of the room.  Ignis lifted his face, squared his shoulders and headed to the staircase.  One foot on the bottom step he shed his Kingsglaive jacket, letting it drop behind him with a whisper of leather and the muffled clink of its many buckles.

  He was sobbing uncontrollably by the time he reached the first landing, hand clasping the railing.  Other hand to his chest to try and hold back the ache that threatened to overtake him.  He had to continue.  He had to reach the top.  He tore his gloves off, shedding them as he started up the final set of stairs.

  The thud in his chest, the rush of his blood in his ears couldn’t cover the fact his was the only breath echoing over his footsteps.

  _I love you Ignis_.

  The toe of his boot hit the throne.

  Ignis collapsed to his knees, hand reaching out blindly, fingers tracing the carving on the armrest.  His heart beating faster, Ignis touched cloth, cold seeping into his fingertips.  His breath hitched painfully as he explored higher.

  “No,” he whispered brokenly. 

  The ultimate cruelty.  The familiar wings on the hilt of the Sword of the Father, pinning his King, his friend, his _lover_ to the throne he was never meant to rule from.

  Howling, head thrown back, Ignis cursed the Gods, “I hate you!  How could you?  Why?  You don’t deserve him!  You don’t deserver reverence!  _I hate you all!_ ”

  As his screams bounced off the walls, Ignis grasped the hilt of the sword that had taken Noct from him, wrenching it out, the sickening sound of flesh against metal, the booming clatter of the sword hitting the floor near the bottom of the stairs.

  Noct’s body tumbled forward into Ignis’ waiting arms.  He wrapped his arms around him, trying not to think about the blood seeping into the fabric of his shirt, wet against his skin.  He rocked back and forth, tears falling freely.  He caressed Noct’s face, brushed his hair aside.  Pressing his lips to Noct’s cold ones, he struggled to breathe.

  “I love you, I have always loved you,” Ignis murmured into Noct’s hair, clutching him close.  “You didn’t deserve this…if only…Oh N…Noct,” he wailed.

  His lungs felt on fire, felt like his skin was being ripped off in pieces.

  The air around him felt thick, his own breath stopped.

  A hand on his shoulder.

  Rage filled Ignis.  Who dared to intrude on his grief?  A snarl curled at his lips.

  “What would you do to change it?”

  Ignis’ blind eyes cleared, Regis standing to his side.

  He made to look down at Noctis in his arms, but Regis’ hand found his face, halting him.

  “No, don’t, you don’t need to see…don’t look at him like that, Ignis,” Regis murmured.  “Answer my question, what would you do to change it?”

  “I…” Ignis’ throat constricted around a sob.  He thought furiously.  He’d thought about that very question so many times since Altissia.  “I would…I’d give my life for his, I would kill Ardyn myself, I would do _anything_.”

  “Ardyn gave you a choice in Altissia.  Change it, Ignis, change it.”

  Regis’ words reverberated in his head, his vision going white, he felt weightless.

  He blinked his eyes open, everything fuzzy.  He was cold and wet, lying on hard stone.  As his vision cleared he saw the Ring of the Lucii before him, Noct laying prone, Ardyn with a dagger to Noct’s throat as he lifted him, Ravus kneeling behind them, panic on his features.

  _Change it_.

  With the ring in his pocket, Ignis did just that.

 

  Sun shining down on the Citadel, Ignis strode into the Throne Room.  His steps echoed as he crossed to the stairs, mounting to the first landing, he bowed, fist across his chest. 

  Noct smiled down at him.

  “Your Majesty,” Ignis said, soft smile teasing at his lips.

  Noct tilted his head in amusement and Ignis abandoned his controlled façade, racing up the last stairs to the Throne as Noct stood, arms wide open to receive him. 

 


End file.
